Saturday, October 8, 2016

Sexy Spaniard Cruz Moran has it all….money, success, and strong family ties. The handsome CEO with the sharp mind and even sharper tongue, is driven to succeed at every level. Ghosts haunt him. Painful memories, he can’t seem to avoid. His demons remind him of the tragic choices he made years ago. His life of solitude… a small price to pay for what he’s done. He avoids relationships of any kind, choosing instead to submerse himself in his company.

Mia Elliott is innocent… a sweet, exotic beauty who walks straight into Cruz’s path, and knocks him completely off his feet. She is instantly intimidated by him, and rightly so. He is brusque, rude, and quite possibly the most haunted man she’s ever laid her eyes on. He’s also beautifully complicated, in every single way. Losing her heart to him comes all too easily. Finding a way into his heart, will prove more challenging than she ever imagined. Saving him from himself seems impossible, but so worth it.

Alexis James lives on the beautiful Central California coast. When she’s not spending time with her hubby of almost 30 years or her amazing kids, you can find her tapping away on the computer. She loves reading, spending time with family, reading, camping, reading….and writing too! She enjoys a good date night, an inexpensive glass of wine, and any story that can make her smile and/or cry.
Alexis’s first novel, “Losing Faith”, was released in September 2014. Her second novel, “Loving Emma”, is a standalone, though it does feature some characters from “Losing Faith”.
She invites you to visit her author pages on Facebook and Goodreads, and her website: alexisjamesauthor.com. You can also follow her on Twitter (@alexisjames27) or you can email her at: alexisjamesauthor@gmail.com.

Friday, October 7, 2016

Anna Frost had a bad feeling when
her twin sister, Liz, told her she’d run off with a member of the notorious
Otherworld biker gang, the Blood Ravagers. And her unease skyrockets when her
sister subsequently vanishes. The police have no authority and little interest,
so Anna decides to take matters into her own hands by infiltrating the group to
discover for herself what happened to Liz, where she meets….

Dante, half demon, half human. A
mix of two worlds, accepted by neither, he’s had no choice but to learn the
hard way how to play whatever side of the fence kept him alive during his
nearly 500 years of existence. Now, as second-in-command of the Blood Ravagers
biker gang, his survival depends on keeping his humanity a secret. Dante’s
ultimate goal is to fulfill the vows he made over two centuries ago to create a
world where half-breeds can live in safety and equality.

But when sheltered schoolteacher
Anna finds unexpected, white-hot passion in the arms of Dante, will her quest
for the truth cost him more than he ever bargained for? Or will they find a way
to save Liz – and their love – together?

Poised now at the entrance of Seven, Anna took a deep breath. The ornate brass door handle seemed out of place on the graffiti-covered wood, symbols both ancient and ominous carved into its surface. She traced her fingers over the delicate S-shape of a serpent, pierced by an arrow.

A loud crash thudded against the door, followed by the tinkle of shattering glass and low animalistic snarls. Not exactly the most reassuring welcome in the world, but she only had four days here before she was due to fly back to Atlanta.

It was now or never.

She’d get in, get her information, get out.

Anna creaked open the front door and stepped inside the bar’s cool, dark interior. The door slammed shut behind her, taking with it the sunny world outside. The junkie’s words looped through her mind as her eyes adjusted.

Forget Seven and the Blood Ravagers. They’re terminal.

Cigarette smoke clouded the air. Noisy ceiling fans swirled the smell of booze and bad decisions into a huge haze of sinister warning. Behind the bar stood a tall, tanned hunk with shaggy blond hair and violet eyes—a bottle of liquor clutched in his hand, frozen mid-pour. He stared back at her with an oh-shit expression. She scanned the large room. There was all manner of fur and fangs and one dude who appeared to be a fantastical shade of turquoise.

Hands trembling, Anna peered through the murkiness, broken here and there by a few bare bulbs and buzzing neon signs. A rusted yellow square with a red one and a percent sign hung crooked on the wall near her shoulder and an old jukebox in the distance played seventies punk rock on endless repeat.

Like a bad spaghetti western, all activity ceased and everyone’s attention zeroed in on her. Anna’s pulse tripped and her chest constricted, followed by queasy dizziness. She half expected Clint Eastwood to swagger over and ask her to make his day. Her analytical brain searched for rational explanations for what was happening.

Anxiety, hunger, sheer terror?

All of them seemed perfectly plausible at the moment.

When they were kids, Liz always joked if the twins lived to see the apocalypse, pragmatic Anna would march right up to Lucifer himself and demand to see the battle plans. She would’ve laughed then, if her sister hadn’t been right. Would’ve laughed now too, if she hadn’t been teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

Her mouth dried. Cold sweat prickled the back of her neck.

This was a mistake.

Liz knew better than to involve herself here, didn’t she?

Flashes of memory slammed into her mind like machine gun fire. A different crowd. A different threat. A different time when Anna’s attempts to help Liz had gone horribly, lethally wrong.

She backed slowly toward the exit. One step, two. A few more and the outside world beckoned. She could run back to the rental car, start the engine and get out of Dodge or Salvation or wherever the hell this place was.

Hands fumbling behind her, Anna reached for the door handle, but encountered only warm, hard muscle. She froze, a silent squeak lodged in her throat.

“Who are you?” The voice was deep and rough and thoroughly male. Her already racing pulse tripled. Through an adrenaline-soaked haze, she somehow managed to detect the hint of an accent. The way he rolled his ‘r’s’. European? Italian, maybe?

Anna swiveled slow and stared into the face of a man she’d seen earlier, the biker with the stubble and aviator shades. The sunglasses were gone now, revealing a pair of obsidian-dark eyes, a brief flicker of crimson at their core—there, then gone.

Her universe tilted on its axis. Everything seemed to drift away. Farther, farther, until all that remained was this man. This man, with his beautiful face and fathomless eyes. Anna’s vision tunneled and her consciousness slipped and from the growing black void of nothingness she heard him curse.

At least she thought it was a curse.

His language was low, guttural, violent to the core.

Yet his arms felt warm and gentle as they saved her from crashing to the cold, hard ground.

Traci is a USA Today Bestselling
Author of Contemporary and Paranormal Romance. Her stories feature sizzling
heroes full of dark humor, quick wits and major attitudes and heroines who are
smart, tenacious, and always give as good as they get. She holds an MFA in
Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University and she loves animals,
chocolate, coffee, hot British actors, and sarcasm—not necessarily in that
order.

That’s how I raced until a fatal accident on the track ruined my riding career. I had no choice but to leave that life behind; at least, until now. My name is Logan Chandler, one of the best FBI agents in the country. When an old friend calls for help and winds up dead, I take matters into my own hands. In order to do that, I have to go back to my past, back to the racetrack and to the one girl I never thought I’d see again . . . Kassidy Bennett.

She’s the key to solving it all, but bringing her in could put her in grave danger. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize she was already there. To save her, I have to put everything on the line. It’s a race against time, a race to the death, and only one will make it to the end.

“Kassidy, I know you’re in there. Please open the door.” There was a sheer curtain over the glass panes and if I moved across the room he’d see me. All I could hear was the thumping of my heart. “Kassidy, please. I need to talk to you. I’m not leaving until I do. You know I won’t.”

“Shit,” I hissed low. He was right. If anyone had the patience to sit around for hours, it was him. He’d done the same thing to me years ago when I told him I wouldn’t go on a date with him. He stayed on my porch for hours and slept on the swing. At the time, I loved his persistence. I wanted to go on a date with him, but I was curious to see how far he’d go.
Knowing he wouldn’t leave unless I made him, I thrust the door open, embracing the anger I felt welling in my chest. I needed it to get rid of him. Logan stepped back and I held my breath, taking in the desperate look in his eyes. For a second, I could feel my resolve slip, but then I remembered the hurtful words he said to me in the hospital.
“There’s nothing to say, Logan. If you want to say you’re sorry, then say the words and get the hell out of here. Other than that, I have no desire to see or talk to you.”
He looked straight into my eyes. “Saying I’m sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it, but I am. I am so fucking sorry for what I did.”
“Great, you said it. We’re done here. Goodbye Logan.” I slammed the door on him and locked it.
“Dammit, Kassie.”
“Don’t call me that!” I shouted, slamming my hand against the door.
He moved closer to the door and I stepped back. “I know you’re pissed at me, but I need you to hear me out. I’ll stay out here the whole night if I have to.”
“Not if I call the police.”
“They’re not gonna be able to do anything to me. At least, not before I get in there myself.” The doorknob wiggled and I gasped.
“What are you doing? You can’t come in here,” I growled.
“Yes, I can, and I will. If it’s the only way to make you listen I don’t care what I have to do.” He fumbled with the doorknob again and I choked, stumbling back into one of my bar stools. I had no doubt he could get in my house, but I wasn’t going to be in it when he did. Grabbing my phone, I jammed it into my back pocket and raced to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I had to get out of there fast.
I changed into a pair of jeans and fetched my black leather jacket out of my closet so I could put it on. My motorcycle and helmet were in my garage but all I had to do was climb out my window to get to them. “Kassie!” Logan called out. The front door slammed shut and I sucked in a breath; it was time.
Opening my window, I carefully slipped out. Logan knocked on my bedroom door and tried my handle. “Kassidy, please come out. I don’t want to do this.”
As soon as I was out the window, I raced to my garage. Slamming my helmet on my head, I jumped on my bike and turned the key. The engine roared to life as I revved it and I sped out of the garage as fast as I could. Logan had no idea I could ride, but I wished I could see the look on his face when he saw me. All I knew was that I had to get away from him, and fast.
Once out of the driveway, I took a left turn, clearly realizing the lapse in judgment. It was the road I’d avoided ever since Levi died on it. “Dammit,” I cried. My eyes started to water and there was no way I could wipe the tears away with my helmet on and going down the road. The sound of Logan’s bike drew close behind and I panicked. What was I going to do?
He gained up to me, clearly not stopping unless I did. More tears fell down my cheeks; especially when I arrived at the spot where Levi was ran off the road. I pulled over and shut off my bike, ripping off my jacket so I could breathe. Logan parked beside me, but I jumped off my bike and walked away from him to the dented guardrail. I took off my helmet and stared at the rubber markings on the metal. My fingers traced the tire marks and I broke down, falling to my knees. My heart felt as if it’d been ripped out my chest.
Logan’s hands closed over my shoulders, but I smacked them away. “Don’t touch me.”
His touch left my body, but I could feel his warmth as he sat beside. “I didn’t know you could ride.”
“Levi and Sean taught me after you left. It helped get my mind off of things.” I tried not to look down in the ravine where Levi was found, but I couldn’t help it. The amount of pain he must’ve felt had to be excruciating. I slammed my hand against the guardrail and sobbed.
“I’m gonna miss him too, Kassidy. Levi was a good friend.”
Angrily, I wiped my tears away and scoffed. “How would you know? You left eight years ago and never looked back.”

Author Bio:New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, L.P. Dover, is a southern belle residing in North Carolina along with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she even began her literary journey she worked in Periodontics enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.
Not only does she love to write, but she loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes, white water rafting, and you can't forget the passion for singing. Her two number one fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime and those songs usually consist of Christmas carols.
Aside from being a wife and mother, L.P. Dover has written over seventeen novels including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, the Gloves Off series, and her standalone novel, Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read is romantic suspense and she also loves writing it. However, if she had to choose a setting to live in it would have to be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.
L.P. Dover is represented by Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary Agency.

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Welcome to the Romance and Erotica Reader Appreciation Giveaway!

We’re so glad you stopped by! A lot of great authors are giving away a HUGE Amazon Gift Card to one lucky Romance and/or Erotica reading fan! (Yes, we check, and only true romance book worms qualify to win! But there WILL be a winner, which will be publicly announced in the Facebook Party HERE on December 2nd!

Here are a couple of sneak peeks from the EPIC Romance and Erotica Group with Rebecca Hamilton!

Deep Focus: Young Hollywood Book 1 by Madisyn Ashmore

I laid my head back across the couch and kicked my feet up over his strong thighs. My foot brushed across his lap as I stretched. I felt the hardness already forming in his pants, his bulge pressing towards me.
“Your parents, do they still live there?”
My chest tightened. I hated telling this part of my life story because of the pity it elicited from friends and strangers alike.
“My parents died in a car crash when I was fourteen. I went to live with my aunt after that. We’re not close.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“No, It’s okay. I was sort of a wild teenager, so I don’t blame her. But anyway, we don’t really keep in touch much anymore.” I paused. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”
He rubbed the soles of my feet and traced his fingers along my calves. My muscles relaxed against his firm touch. As he drew circles on my skin, an intense warmth washed over my body.
“I think LA is the place where outcasts, misfits, and lonely people come to find their soul.” He breathed the words like the they were meant for only himself. He looked surprised when my soft voice echoed a reply.
“Was that true for you? Did you come to Los Angeles searching for your soul?”
He thought quietly for a moment before his husky voice deepened. “I came here running. Running away from a past that…” His voice broke off. “I came here searching, and to start a new life.”
“And did you?”
“I found that money wins a lot of friends, but not the kind that you can count on forever. I’ve had a lot of women keep me warm at night, but none that would’ve stayed if all this vanished.” He gestured to the expensively decorated room around us, an ornate display of his opulence and wealth. For the first time, I saw the crack in his facade and the real Oliver Tate emerged.
“What was your life like…before.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “Before all this.”
“Not now, Scarlett. It’s long and boring and not worth discussing.” He shifted on the couch and breathed a heavy exhale.
There was still so much about Oliver Tate I didn’t know. With every detail I discovered, a thousand more secrets loomed in the distance. I wanted him to release to me and tell me every broken and damaged part of himself. I could take it. I could take it all.
He laid back, his youthful face glistening with a mist of perspiration. I ran my fingers down the front of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning him, exposing his ripped abs, slick and steamy. His fingers gripped my arm, pulling me up to his face as he sucked and kissed my delicate lips.
I ran my hand along his pants, the heat spreading from his dark denim. My fingers grasped the stiff metal zipper, his rock hard warmth burning into my touch. He swelled as my hand grazed him…

—

Cadence by Lisa Swallow

The ensuite door clicks open and Jax appears. Naked. Almost. A white hotel towel is slung and knotted low around his hips, barely reaching his knees, but aside from that… naked.
Naked. My breath disappears. The word won’t leave my head; and if I closed my eyes, I’m damn sure the image of his firm, muscular chest glistening with water wouldn’t leave either.
Relieved my mouth isn’t hanging open, I attempt to switch on the snarky Tegan who was about to give him a mouthful. Jax runs a hand through his damp hair and I’m distracted by the drops of water on his lips as they curve into a sheepish smile.
“Oh, hey, Tegan.”
Hey, Tegan? I clear my throat and tear my look from his mouth. “Why haven’t you left yet? You have a shower in your own room!”
Jax’s lips purse with confusion. “Uh. Waiting for you. I wanted to talk to you about last night. I woke up in your bed, but you weren’t there. I know I was drunk but…” He stares at my gym gear or more precisely how the purple gym vest and black pants hug my curves. “I’m damn sure I’d remember if I’d been naked with you.”
The darkened look in Jax’s eyes reflects exactly what’s happening in his imagination. I remain focused on his eyes. Do. Not. Look. At. His. Body.
My eyes drifts downwards and I fight against lingering on the solid abs and the light trail of hair disappearing into the knotted towel. Has he tattoos any lower than where the blue stars are inked on his skin at the edge of the towel?
I blink away the image. “Last night, you stood me up, then barged into my room in the early hours, whined for a bit before you passed out on my bed. Way to impress a girl.”
Jax tips his head towards the bed. “Could’ve been worse. Or better, depending on which way you want to look at the situation.”
I focus hard on not staring some more at Jax, or acknowledging I’m suddenly less pissed off and more aroused. “You should be so lucky!”
Jax steps towards me. “One day I think I will be, we agreed.”
I look directly into Jax’s eyes, so I can’t be tempted by his mouth — or any other part of him in touching distance. “Put some clothes on.”
“Or you could take yours off?”
I want to retort; but unsure whether my voice will fail and give my state of mind away, I clamp my mouth closed.
Jax inches closer and I back up. “Come on, Tegan, I can see in your face what you’re thinking.”
“I doubt that.” I swallow. I should turn and walk away, but memories of the way Jax kisses leads to temptation for more. “Get dressed.”
Jax sticks his bottom lip out, turns his back, and approaches the bed, hands going to the edge of the knot securing the towel. Before I get a view of his ass to bank with the other images, I spin around and leave the room.
“Nice try!” I call and Jax’s response is laughter.

Noah Ramsey has a great hockey career, wonderful parents, and a good best friend, but what he wants most is to be with the love of his life who walked away from him years ago. When he finds her at the airport, he realizes she’s changed, and she’s struggling with things she doesn’t want to tell him about. Noah also realizes just how much she scarred him when she left.

Meredith Quick has always planned everything out. She chose her tennis career over love in order to better succeed, but her plan dissolves when an injury threatens her career and her fiancé leaves her. Struggling through pain and the uncertainty of her future, she realizes her first misstep was walking away from Noah. She impulsively decides to go back to him while she attempts to put her life back together.

Reacquainting isn’t easy when Noah doesn’t quite trust Meredith to stay and Meredith struggles with overcoming the pain she’s endured without him. Can they work through their issues and move forward, or will their past ruin things between them forever?

“Tell me about you.”
He tilts his head back to lean against the seat. I’m not sure what it means that he’s not looking at me as he speaks. “Well, I love playing as a pro. It’s been a bit frustrating at times, but I wouldn’t trade it. My teammates are great, too. Maybe you can meet one or two of them while you’re here.”
“I’d like that. What about your family?”
“You already know Ashley had a baby. She’s been married to Oliver for about a year now. She met him in college and he proposed the day after they graduated. Mom and Dad are doing well, too. Dad spends his time on the golf course while Mom makes quilts and does whatever it is she does with her friends. Not much has changed with them. I would ask about your family, but I already know. And since you don’t want to talk about you, I’m not sure if I should ask how you’ve been.”
He does know how they are because according to my parents, he talks to them almost as often as he talks to his own parents. He’s right, too. I don’t want him to ask how I’ve been because if I start talking, I might become a crazy, blubbering mess. “Tell me what you know about my life instead.” Then, I’ll find out how much he knows about Vance. How much he knows about my disastrous life. I’m not sure what he talks about with my parents or how much information my mom provides about me.
“I know you’ve hated dealing with your injury, you’re worried you’ll be forced to leave the game early, and you don’t talk about it if you can help it. From what I hear, you also refuse to talk about your engagement and why it ended. Your parents are worried about you, too. That’s all I know, Mere. You mom only gives me brief updates. She knows I want to know how you’re doing, but she doesn’t want to say too much either, out of respect to you.” He pauses as a flight attendant checks on us and then focuses his attention on me again. “Am I crazy for hoping you’ll talk to me about those things?”
“Yes.” I don’t want to, not yet. Just like I want to find out if he has a girlfriend, but I’m too scared to ask right now.
Noah nods, not looking surprised at all. He leans his head against the seat again, facing forward. “I’ve missed you, Meredith.” Four quietly spoken words that echo loudly in my heart as if he just shouted them.
I glance away, deciding the cloud-filled sky is a more preferable view than this handsome man next to me. “I’ve missed you, too,” I whisper. More than he could ever imagine.

Author Bio:Lindsay Paige is the author of multiple Young Adult, New Adult, and Sports romances. She also coauthored sports romances with Mary Smith. Along with writing, she loves reading, watching hockey, especially the Pittsburgh Penguins, and finding funny terrible puns and recipes on Pinterest. All the while, she is also focused on completing college.
Lindsay resides in North Carolina and is inspired by the world around her and the people in it. She is currently working on numerous solo works. Visit her website: lindsaypaige.com

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

When a wolf mates with a human, the child is nearly always a wolf. Briana was raised as a werewolf, but then puberty hit and she never changed. She’s persuaded a few wolves to bite her, but it never took. At nineteen, she’s going to give it a final try. This time, she’ll ask someone who was bitten instead of being born to it, to see if it makes a difference.

She grew up welcome in the Pack until she was branded a human. Her developing teenage psyche was wounded by their rejection, and she holds nothing but ill will for the Pack and all it stands for. However, it’s fine for a human to glare at the Alpha and tell him he isn’t the boss of her. Trying it as a wolf is another story. She’s determined to make a go of it as a lone wolf, but Randall — the local Alpha — has other ideas, despite the fact she’s property of his brother’s motorcycle club.

Briana was raised to be a werewolf and she finally feels whole, but the transition is different for everyone. She understands supernatural politics, but she’s going to have to maneuver through the highest levels of them as a brand new wolf still struggling for control.

Maggie had told me what she expected me to do before she’d changed into her wolf, so now I lay on the forest floor, buck-naked and spread eagle.

I’ve been bitten before so I knew the pain I was about to feel, and it took every ounce of my resolve to remain in place as the medium sized wolf sniffed me all over. My legs wanted to kick and then jump up and run, my hands wanted to protect my face from her, and my heart felt as if it were trying to escape my chest — but I held my breath and forced myself to stay frozen.

If this didn’t work I wasn’t sure I’d try again, but I had to give it one final attempt. I’d been raised knowing I was a wolf. I’d always felt her inside me, but then she never showed herself and I was labeled a human when I’d had my period for a year and hadn’t changed.

But my self-identity never changed. I’m a human who identifies as a wolf, but if this didn’t work — I’d have to find a way to accept my humanity.

I gasped when she bit my left thigh, held my breath while she mangled my right thigh, and couldn’t hold in my screams when her teeth tore into the skin and muscle of my left shoulder.

I’d told her where to bite me, but I hadn’t told her she could just go straight in and out without ripping. The wolf’s natural instincts are to tear as they bite, and fuck it hurt. If this didn’t turn me I was going to be scarred something awful.

She must have realized how bad she’d hurt me, because she was a little more gentle with my right shoulder, but it still hurt like hell.

Finally, Maggie’s wolf backed up a half-dozen steps and went to the ground, her eyes on me so intense it was unnerving, but I already smelled of pain and blood and I wasn’t sure how much control she had, so I tried my hardest not to be afraid.

Everything’s hazy past that point. I remember hurting, remember thrashing in the dirt, but it was days later before I have any memory of being fully in my human brain again.

About the Author

Candace Blevins lives with her husband of 18 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.

Her urban fantasy series, Only Human, gives us a world where weredragons, werewolves, werelions, three different species of vampires, as well as a variety of other mythological beings exist.

Candace's two paranormal romance series, The Chattanooga Supernaturals and The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, are both sister series to the Only Humanseries, and give some secondary characters their happily ever after.

Her Safeword Series gives us characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. Each book in the Safeword series highlights a couple with a different take on the lifestyle.

As director of design for the O Spa chain, a sophisticated women’s club that is trending its way into being the Next Big Thing, Chloe’s ready to take on the world.

One baby at a time.

Her home study’s done, and she’s about to adopt, a thirty-something single mother by choice. Who needs to put her life on hold for the right guy when the right baby is waiting for her?

Besides, talk about fantasy.

The right guy?

Pfft. Right.

And then in walks Nick Grafton, with those commanding sapphire eyes and wavy blonde hair and a sophisticated mouth that only smiles for her.

He’s perfect.

But the last thing Nick wants is to start fresh with a new baby as his college-age kids fly the coop. A single father for more than fifteen years after his wife walked out on her family, Nick finally tastes freedom.

But he likes the taste of Chloe more. * * * Our Options Have Changed is a full-length standalone contemporary romance, the first in the On Hold series by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent and journalist-turned-fiction-writer Elisa Reed. It is a loose spinoff from Julia Kent’s Shopping for a Billionaire series, with cameo appearances from favorite characters.

**BONUS ALL-NEW NOVELLA** from Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling Shopping series! Read Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon. This 100-page bonus comes at the end of Our Options Have Changed. When Shannon can’t get workaholic Declan to give her the sexy honeymoon time she wants, she takes matters into her own hands — with hilariously disastrous (or disastrously hilarious?) results.

O is a twenty-first century club for sophisticated women. A fourth space for women of a discerning taste.
Home is the first space. Work is the second space. Third spaces are locations like coffee shops and malls.
O is the fourth space. The space where you can arrive. Rest. Relax. Indulge. Be someone you can’t be in the other three spaces.
Based on our membership rates, we’re onto something. Our investors are, shall we say, pleased.
O does have a public presence, thanks to our retail environments. In Boston, Chicago, San Francisco, and soon in New Orleans, sophisticated consumers can spend hours—and hundreds of dollars—browsing our selection of “elegant accessories for intimate pleasure.”
That’s right—sex toys. That’s what the masses call them. Except at O, we cater to a clientele that doesn’t want to be one of the hoi polloi. They want to be unique. In the know. Enlightened and cosmopolitan on the surface.
But a wildcat down…below.
Which makes a Grade C unacceptable. No one wants to be average.Especially down below.

Author Bio:New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

Upon her return from Greece with three new friends and a broken heart, Isis’ hunger for human flesh is stronger than ever. She’s a miserable mess after losing David following her betrayal. Her mutation into Creatura is all but over when she receives the surprise of her life, compelling her to seek out David’s family. Only, they’ve broken all ties with her, and she doesn’t know how to reach them.

Turpis, the demonic beings that attacked Isis in Greece, have tracked her whereabouts. Now, in order to fend for her life, Isis must join forces with deities she doesn’t trust.

Is Isis truly the Marker of Hope as she’s believed to be, or will she lose the battle to her starving inner beast and demons, obliterating humankind from existence? Find out in the epic finale of the best-selling CREATURA SERIES.

“A lot’s happened since you decided to shut down and wallow in self-pity. You’ve been impossible to talk to, and I’ve been bored out of my mind. I thought we came here because we were going to figure things out. What happened to ‘I’m going to save the people I love’? Did you just feed me that bull so I’d agree to come with you?”

“You know that’s not true. I meant it.”
“Then what’s the hold up?” Galilea’s irritated face turned a subtle shade of pink. Her pulse quickened just the slightest bit.
I was surprised at how much my senses had developed. Heighted. Months ago, I wouldn’t have noticed any of this, but now, I could even smell the natural notes of musk on her skin. I felt my mouth water. Sometimes, I liked that my new superhuman senses gave me insight to peoples’ moods and emotions. Most of the time, they were waiting for me to let my guard down so the beast could take over.
“Galilea.” I closed my eyes. “I’m hungry.”
“You can’t just change the subject. You do it all the time. I’m tired of it.”
“I’m not changing the subject. I’m trying to tell you I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to control myself. How am I supposed to save anyone when I want to rip out their guts?”

Author Bio:
Nely Cab is a Writer of stuff, a Master Coffee Drinker, a Food Maker & Eater, an Imaginary World Conqueror, and an Air Breather. She talks to herself—a lot—in her South Texas home while she plots stories about fantasy worlds and sips coffee from a pitcher. She’s known for cooking far too much food and has a tendency to overdo…well, everything. It is rumored that she is fabulous. Nely Cab is the best-selling author of the Creatura series.

Where the fairy tale ends, destiny begins. Elizabeth Tanner is no Tinkerbell, and her life is no fairy tale. Broke and drowning in student loans, the one thing she wants more than anything is a scholarship from the Trinity Foundation. But after the ancient Irish text she's studying turns out to be more than just a book, she becomes their prisoner instead. And when Trinity reveals Elizabeth is half-Fae, she finds herself at the center of a plot to save the magical races of Ireland from a brutal civil war.

As Commander of Trinity's elite warriors, Finn O'Connell isn't used to having his authority challenged. He doesn't know whether to punish or protect the infuriating young woman in his custody. When he discovers the Dark Fae want to use Elizabeth's abilities to control the source of all power in the universe, he'll risk everything to help her. At the mercy of Trinity and enslaved to the Dark Fae, Elizabeth finds herself alone on the wrong side of an Irish myth thousands of years in the making. Refusing to be a pawn in their game, Elizabeth has to fight her way back to the man she loves, but to do so, she must wage her own war against the magic that binds her.

Wiping the crumbs off his jeans, Finn reached into his
backpack and threw an apple at me, which I caught with a deft hand.

“Nice
catch,” he said, grinning.

I
flung the apple up into the air and caught it in my other hand. “I played third
base. Little League.”

“You
mean baseball?”

I
nodded.

“Never
seen a game myself.”

I
gaped at Finn. “You mean you live in Chicago, and you’ve never been to a Cubs
game?”

He
shrugged. “Not interested.” Finn’s eyes lit up, and he shoved me playfully with
his shoulder. “Now hurling. That’s a
good game.”
“Well, they’re totally
different. That’s not even a fair comparison,” I said with a sniff.
“Fair enough,” Finn said,
wistful. “Really, nothing can compare
with hurling.”

I
laughed. “Moiré tried to explain the rules to me once, but she lost me after
hurley stick.”

“Oh,
it’s simple, really.” Finn jumped down and rummaged around the rubble until he
found a large branch. He swung it, the stick cutting through the air, slowly at
first, but then with more force. Finn’s chest muscles rippled between the flaps
of his leather jacket, and my blood pulsed in my ears at the sight of him,
dancing from foot to foot as he practiced his swing.

“Now
the point of hurling,” Finn began, “is to use this stick, the hurley stick.” He
raised the old branch in the air. “To get a little ball called a sliotareither over or under your
opponent’s goalpost.” Finn picked up a handful of small rocks and, using his
“hurley,” sent a pebble whizzing over the stone wall, inches from my head.

“Hey,
watch it!”

Finn
smiled up at me. “You with me so far?”

I
nodded.

“Now,”
Finn said. “If the ball flies under the goalpost into the net, it’s worth three
points.” Finn sent another pebble skittering against the wall, right next to my
boot. “But you have to get it past the keeper, and that can be a challenge.”
His eyes glittered at me as he swung his stick again. He threw a rock up in the
air and with a loud thwack sent it
zooming over the wall. I held out my hand and caught the stone, the look on
Finn’s face making up for the sting of impact.

Finn
stalked over to me and grabbed my fist. “Will you settle down!” he said,
attempting to pry the pebble from my grip. “I’m trying to teach you a
three-thousand-year-old art form and you’re nattering on about the fecking
Cubs.”

I
giggled, snatching his hurley stick from his hands.

“Technical
foul!” Finn barked behind me, but I sprinted away, swinging the hurley over my
head as I climbed the wall.

“Get
back here, you brat!” Finn bolted after me so quickly, he lost his footing on
the stone wall and tumbled to the ground.
I laughed as he came to his feet, his hair loose, chasing me.

“It’s the bottom of the ninth, bases are
loaded!”

Finn
made a snatch for the stick, but I feigned to the right.
“Tanner’s up to bat.”I climbed a set of old stairs to nowhere and tossed up
the stone. I popped out my hips and, following through on the turn, sent the
stone flying over the hill and down the cliffs below. I jumped down, swinging
my baseball/hurley bat. “Homerun by Tanner! And the Cubs win the pennant!”

Finn
smacked into me, and I collapsed to the ground, his wide body over mine as he
grasped for the stick.

“Dammit,
O’Connell!” I gasped beneath Finn, his whole weight crushing my chest. “Now I know
for a fact hurling is not a contact
sport!” I laughed as I squirmed to get away, holding out the stick just beyond
his reach.

“Neither
is baseball!”
With a devilish grin, Finn
tickled my armpit, and I curled up in a fit of giggles. He made a grab for my
wrist, pinning me to the ground, and his gray eyes danced as he looked down at
me. My laughter faded, and running my other hand through his hair, I pulled his
face to mine. He kissed me, a low moan rumbling deep in his throat.

Finn
nipped my bottom lip with his teeth, and my back arched as our hips melded
together, my better judgment forgotten. He slid his arm beneath my shoulders
and pulled me close against him, kissing me long and hard, and I gasped,
gulping for air as he lowered his mouth to my neck.

About the Author:

As a child, Colleen Halverson used to play in the woods imagining worlds and telling stories to herself. Growing up on military bases, she found solace in her local library and later decided to make a living sharing the wonders of literature to poor, unsuspecting college freshmen. After backpacking through Ireland and singing in a traditional Irish music band, she earned a PhD in English with a specialization in Irish literature. When she’s not making up stories or teaching, she can be found hiking the rolling hills of the Driftless area of Wisconsin with her husband and two children. THROUGH THE VEIL is her debut novel.